


Finding Arkadia

by norvina



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clarke/Lincoln friendship, Drama, F/M, Long-Distance Friendship, Sirens, mermaid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15335091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norvina/pseuds/norvina
Summary: There's something fishy going on in Arkadia.Clarke Griffin moves to Arkadia, South Carolina after her adoptive parents land new jobs with WeatherCorps. Fishery on the East Coast. Life was awful, but it was normal until she falls overboard her new best friend's boat.





	1. Travelin' Soldier

It was nearly eighty-seven degrees on the water that night. Clarke and her new best friend, Lincoln, were throwing a small party a little ways from the public dock in Arkadia. Lincoln had to report for duty at Naval Station Norfolk by 4 PM tomorrow afternoon, then he would be sent god knows where so they were pretty much drinking their feelings. Lincoln was remaining tight-lipped about his upcoming mission and Clarke hadn't quite found the words to tell him how much his friendship means to her without sounding like an overemotional twelve-year-old. 

Clarke met Lincoln a little over a month ago, six weeks to be exact. It was strange how she'd been friends with some people since she was old enough to properly form a sentence, yet she'd never felt this way with them. Lincoln was this person that she could pour out her soul to without worry that she was being judged. In truth, they didn't make sense. He was three years older than her and in the United State's Marines, and she was a senior in high school without a clue where her life is going. Yet, it's like their souls recognized one another. Clarke was in a dark hole when she met Lincoln, having lost every friend she'd ever known after moving to Arkadia for her parent's jobs. 

She felt out of balance as if the world was falling off its axis. Her entire life was defined by the location in which she lived in. Los Angeles, California. She was comfortable there. All her friends went to the same prep school as her, as well as her adoptive younger brother, Wells. Clarke knew where all the best art galleries were, and the absolute best place to get street corn and authentic burritos. 

Arkadia was a vastly different place. There were only five hundred residents and the biggest industry in the town was fishing, something Clarke had never considered to be profitable although it makes perfect sense in a place like this. There was one dining establishment and it was essentially a rundown IHOP. There weren't any arcades, or skate parks, or even decent painting classes...

Her heart ached for a little bit of normalcy. 

In one of her trips into town, away from her parent's beachfront property, Clarke stumbled upon a bookstore. Before she started high school, she was an avid reader but her friends thought that was geeky so she ultimately exchanged her love for novels for a love of Buzzfeed articles. Although this summer was a huge life lesson for her, before she left L.A., she was obsessed with her public image. Clarke wanted to be cool and hot and everything that the stereotypical Instagram model is, but she has bad eczema and asthma and the very rare seizure. No one ever really considered her the cool friend.

So, when her snotty friends blocked her from the group chat, she was devastated. 

Her best defense was to read Rupi Kaur's poetry and cry herself to sleep. It was a major shock when she met Lincoln Woods.

_XXX_

_He was trying to operate the point of sales equipment off of the tablet-like register. Clarke could tell he was a second away from beating it, so she stepped in. "Uh, I used to work at a clothing store and we had these..um, let me."_

_Lincoln was shocked to even see her behind him, "Uh, sorry. Are you serious?" He sounded desperate._

_"Yeah." Clarke smiled at him. He was massive compared to her and he might have been intimidating if he wasn't wearing a shirt with Winnie The Pooh on it. Clarke laughed under her breath at his fashion sense and got to work on the POS equipment. After a few purposeful taps, it was all set again. "So, just enter the store pin and you should be good to go."_

_"I think my mother left that..." He walks around the check out counter and pulls out a two-sided notebook. "Yeah, here it is." He flipped the tablet in his direction, inputting the code and then smiled when it started to work. "Sorry, I've been away for awhile and my mother...well, she just passed away and I've been trying to run this place until I can find someone to manage it."_

_"I'm sorry for your loss."_

_"She had cancer," Lincoln says as if that's all the explanation she needs. He follows up, "Uh, we knew it was her time. She fought it for years and she's at peace now."_

_Clarke tried to make her expression genuine even though she was feeling extremely awkward, "If you have any more problems, let me know." Clarke gave him her phone number, thinking that she could at least make this easier for him even if she was emotionally stunted. He seemed to be extremely grateful because he told her she could have the book without paying._

_She insisted anyway._

_XXX_

Later that night, he texted her and asked her to come by the bookstore the next day. Clarke went and he offered her a part-time job. Two weeks later, he asked her if she would manage the store in his absence. His C.O. gave him enough time to get his affairs in order and settle his mother's business, but he was due back in Norfolk in nearly three weeks and he didn't want to sell. In the two weeks since they met, Clarke and Lincoln really got to know each other. They bonded over the loss of his mother, and how she never knew her biological parents. They talked about the trouble he used to get in when he was in high school, and the brokenness she felt in Arkadia. He told her stories about the military and she shared tales about her adventures in L.A. It was nice to have someone to talk to so openly. 

Clarke hesitantly agreed to manage the bookstore as long as he kept the ad open for a new manager. She knew that she was completely underqualified to manage anything. Plus, she's still in high school. Lincoln made a point to tell her that if she was managing the bookstore, she could set her own hours. Clarke's only taking four classes the entire academic year, so she has early release. Her tentative schedule for opening his around noon. Even with that schedule in mind, everything feels so surreal. Things were changing in her life so quickly. 

She just didn't want Lincoln to ultimately regret his decision. 

“What are you thinking about?” Lincoln asks her when it's obvious that she hasn't heard a thing he's said about some movie he watched the night before. He's sitting back it one of those beach chairs made out of all the lines of see-through plastic pieces. Its adjusters are a little rusty and there's a hole by the head, but Lincoln seems to enjoy it. He's drinking his fourth beer of the evening. They closed up the bookstore around three, and have been on the water ever since. Clarke had to slather herself in sunblock multiple times to avoid the dreaded burn. 

She was drinking Mike's Hard Pink Lemonade conservatively, but she'd surpassed Lincoln three drinks ago. Clarke was hoping to have a nice summer glow, but she was typically pasty white so she didn't have high hopes. This was the fifth time she'd been out on Lincoln's boat. It was pretty nice. There was a deck for sunbathing and a nice comfortable seat for the driver. Clarke typically sat on the bench seats on the edge by the driver's side so she could look at the water and remind herself how much she hates the ocean. The leather is brand new, something Lincoln recently replaced in his attempt to stay busy. He wanted to paint the boat before he left, but he ultimately ran out of time. For now, it'll remain an off-white color. 

“The bookstore.” Clarke sighs, leaning back in her neon pink chair. It's almost identical to Lincoln's except that it's new. It doesn't quite have a detailed history like Lincoln's does. 

“And?”

“You’re a madman for letting a stranger take over your mother’s business.” She points out because he truly is. This isn't normal, rational behavior. Clarke watches Lincoln casually sip his beer, not a trace of doubt on his face. It's dark outside, probably well after eleven at this point. Clarke knows that her parents will be upset if she doesn't go home soon, but she isn't quite ready to say goodbye to Lincoln. He doesn't want her to miss the first day of school, so this is it for them. It's bittersweet considering all the time they've spent together in the last few weeks. Time was constantly working against her. 

“You’re not a stranger." Lincoln nods as he speaks as if he believes everything he's saying. The truth is, Clarke is terrified that he does because that would make this real. How does a seventeen-year-old meet a person willing to hand over a business to them? It's unrealistic and quite frankly, concerning.  “I trust you with this and if it fails, it’s not your fault. Bookstores are a dying business. It just makes me feel better that someone is continuing what she started.” He laughs a little at his upcoming comment before he says it, “And anything to keep it out of the KB Construction’s greedy hands.”

KB Construction is one of the only businesses keeping Arkadia on the map these days, next to WeatherCorp Fishery. It’s owned by Marcus Kane, and his second wife, Aurora Blake. According to Lincoln, the business makes most of its money forty-minutes up the coast in Charleston, South Carolina but they hire local citizens to do the work. In the past few years, they’ve been trying to buy any available property in Arkadia. The night Lincoln’s mother died, they contacted him about selling her business.

It was insensitive and disrespectful, but the offer was almost too good to pass up. Lincoln tried everything he could to find a different option. He hates their eldest son, who was the one that made the offer in the first place, so when he met Clarke, he knew that he had the opportunity to tell him to shove it.

The son, Bellamy Blake, hadn’t taken Lincoln’s solution so kindly and has made numerous visits in the last two weeks.

XXX

The first time he ever met Clarke she was alone at the bookstore. Lincoln left to pick up lunch and to talk to his Commanding Officer via Skype. It was her impression that he would be gone for at least half an hour. Even though Jeffree Star just posted a new video, she decided to do the adult thing and do some quick inventory. Business was starting to pick up due to the summer's fast ending. Students of all ages were buying their summer reading material or purchasing books for their upcoming college classes. 

Despite the way business was going, she should have known who he was the second he walked through the door. Lincoln warned her about him slithering around her to check out Lincoln's plans for the place. Unfortunately, she was thrown off by the fact that he wasn't wearing a suit but a pair of cargo shorts, a white Costa T-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. In her experience, people that are typically out to commit highway robbery don't dress like they're beach bums. "Can I help you?" Clarke asked him, her friendly customer service expression plastered on her face. 

Due to the size of Arkadia, most people that came into the bookstore had questions for her about how she knew Lincoln. It was all code, though. People really wanted to know if they were sleeping together and who she is...

Even though the news of the Jaha family moving into one of the only luxury homes in Arkadia traveled fast, people expected her to be of a different race when Thelonious and Lorelai spoke of a daughter. It was a common misconception and one that she couldn't blame the community for although it was annoying when people asked her parent's whose child she was, or when they made her feel like something was wrong with her because her parents were people of color and she literally is white as paper. 

“I want to speak with the new owner." Bellamy's brown eyes dismiss her so quickly that she feels like she's been slapped in the face. Clarke didn't expect someone that looks so good to be such an asshole. 

Clarke has to swallow the anger brewing in the back of her throat. She has a tendency to be sarcastic but she's working on being kind to people that enter the store. “I think you’re misinformed. The owner is still Lincoln.” She quickly goes back to taking a brief inventory of the summer readers and the limited edition books that are specifically for Arkadia Community College students. Most people commuted from the surrounding small towns, so the population was almost untouched by the college students roaming the streets of Arkadia. 

A crash of thunder gets her attention, and she looks back at the entrance. Bellamy is no longer there. For a moment, she thinks that he has left but then she finds him flipping through a picture book in the mythology section. He must feel her eyes on him but he sighs, "Can you just get your boss?" Clarke makes the executive decision to continue working so he has to wait as long as possible to talk to her, seeing as she is the new manager. Maybe if he hadn't quickly judged her based off her age, she would be a little nicer. Unfortunately, he's a dick. 

It's really a shame because he's so damn cute. 

Clarke stops ogling him and gets back to checking on the middle school summer readers. Parents were calling to reserve copies for later date pickups, so it was best to pull them now. She grabs three copies of  _Siren Sisters_ by Dana Langer and walks over to the cash register. Clarke pulls a pastel pink sticky note from the deck and writes down the names of the parents that requested the novels. Lincoln often comments on her excellent memory. While she’s at the desk, she restarts the Zen music that sets the mood in the store. For the most part, she tunes it out when she's working but Lincoln insists that customers love it. 

The music seems to get Bellamy’s attention because he’s quickly walking towards the register. “Are you incompetent?”

Clarke fixes him with a look that she hopes relays how uncaring she is about his time. “Oh, that’s right, you wanted to speak with my boss.” She dramatically spins in a slow circle, “What do you want?”

Bellamy blinks and then starts uncontrollably laughing, “Lincoln has left his store to a teenager? Perfect.” He taps the counter with his palm, “When this business ultimately goes under, please give me a call.” He hands her his business card. When she goes to reach for it, he pulls it back and then says,  “Your mythology section is weak.” He releases his card after Clarke gives it a tug. He looks entirely too smug, so she balls it up and throws it in the trash in front of him.

He grimaced and left.

XXX

“I hate him.” Clarke darkly laughs under her breath and finishes her last Mike Hard.  “If my letters start coming from Charleston County Correctional, you know what happened.”

Lincoln chuckles, sounding genuinely at peace with his life. Clarke listens to the water slapping against the boat for a few moments, idly thinking that it's slowly been picking up for the last hour.  “I’m happy I met you, Clarke.” Lincoln admits as he looks out towards the black water. The lights from the docking station are visible from where they are, but their mostly seeing everything by moonlight. Clarke is fascinated with the way the sky looks out here. In Los Angeles, she could never make out any constellation but it's so different here. Lincoln told her that in Wyoming, it looks like God painted the sky. He also told her that he would never go back to Wyoming because of bears. 

“I’m happier,” Clarke tells him with a grin on her lips after a few more minutes. She finds that she keeps getting wrapped up in her thoughts tonight. Lincoln was a blessing to her and maybe the first real friend she's ever had, excluding her brother. Things are different with him. Realer, in a way. He sees her, and she sees him, and their perfectly content with the way things are. Clarke feels like she could confess her darkest fears to him, and really reveal how scared she is of failure in life. It's those things that make it better than anything she's ever had before. 

The only time Lincoln has ever judged her is when she admitted that she has never set foot in the ocean. Clarke hates the water because of the nastiness that goes on in it. She's not a germaphobe, really but the ocean crosses a hard line for her. It's too deep, too large, and there are literally things that want to kill you. And after she saw The Meg preview, she made a vow to never, ever step foot in the water. 

 

Her heart is breaking realizing how little time she has left with her new best friend.

Even as she thinks that she never wants to leave this spot, she can feel the water starting to slam against the boat. Lincoln almost dropped his beer with the last wave.  “I think it’s time to get out of here.” Clarke stands up and looks out to the shore. She thinks that if she wasn't just a little tipsy, she would be able to point out where the Jaha Mansion was, but alas she couldn't. Her parents worked for WeatherCorps. Her adoptive father, Thelonious Jaha, worked as the new lawyer for the corporation and her adoptive mother, Lorelai Jaha worked on their Public Relation Campaigns. Their jobs paid extremely well considering the contacts the power couple racked up in the almost twenty years they lived in Los Angeles.

“I think you’re right.” Lincoln whistles and stands from his busted chair. The boat rocks again, causing Lincoln to look up at the sky. He's looking for something specific, but Clarke is at a loss.  “A storm is coming, fast.” It rained earlier in the day and Clarke didn’t remember there being any weather reports calling for rain tonight. She stands and starts folding up her chair so she could strap it down for their ride back. There’s a loud crack in the sky and Clarke looks worriedly at the sky, now knowing that Lincoln was waiting for the indication of a real storm. 

“It was fine a second ago, where is this weather coming from?”

“It happens like this all the time.” Lincoln shrugs, but Clarke can tell he's tense. “I don’t think there’s been a lot of storms like this over this summer but it’s pretty common.”

“Good to know.”

“See the heat lightning?” Lincoln points over her shoulder and Clarke turns to watch the sky turn an orange-pink color. It bounces around the clouds, never touching the grown. “Live here for awhile and you’ll fall in love with these storms. I used to get the best sleep when it rained like this.” Clarke can barely sleep when it storms at night. Her anxiety gets so bad and she constantly feels like someone is about to sneak up on her. It’s a weird response to thunder, but she’s always on edge. She decides not to share that with Lincoln, though.

Clarke packs up Lincoln’s chair as he goes to start the boat and throws away all the alcohol bottles they've accumulated this afternoon. Technically, he shouldn’t be operating it. He could get a boating under the influence citation or something but they’re completely alone and the drive to the dock isn’t that far away. The boat starts with a gentle purr a Clarke sits on the old, tattered boat seat on the edge. Lincoln is concentrating on his driving. The waves are beating against his boat, trying to force him in a different direction. He quickly switches on the radio, so he can hear the weather report.

Clarke sees a streak of purple lightning above her head but she has yet to feel the first raindrop. Another strike seems to directly above her. It lights up the water just as Clarke is looking at the dark waves. She thinks she sees—someone’s hair?

Do fish have hair?

Clarke leans forward to get a better look just as Lincoln hits a particularly rough wave. In the longest second of her life, she is sent flying through the air, and overboard the boat.

It’s her absolute worst fear.

Yet, at the moment she feels nothing but serenity as she sinks in the water. Clarke can see the moonlight above her, but it's fading quickly. She's fighting against the water, but it's with little results. Oddly enough, Clarke doesn't feel a tightness in her chest like she expected there to be. She chalks it up to pure adrenaline as she searches for the light that will guide her back to the surface. When she can't find it, Clarke panics. Everything’s so dark and disorienting. Clarke wants to scream but she's been doing such a good job holding her breath so far that she doesn't want to ruin it. 

Suddenly, she feels arms around her—strong arms, maybe Lincoln’s arms. _Of course, Lincoln’s arms._ In half a second, she's breaking through the surface. Clarke coughs the water out of her mouth, wiping it from her eyes in the process. The violent waves that she felt beforehand have calmed down around her, but she knows that she's still moving with the current. 

Lincoln is five feet away from her, looking absolutely terrified by the situation. “Lincoln!” She yells over the thunder echoing in the sky. He extends his arms out to her, proving that he's a far better swimmer than she ever will be. Clarke thinks that she should send a thank you card to the United States Navy.  She lets him pull her back towards the edge of the boat, although that was a struggle in itself because it was constantly moving every time a wave hit it.

He practically throws her towards the ladder and she has to use every bit of strength she has to pull her weight up. Lincoln is quick behind her, pushing her bottom until she finally finds purchase on the deck. He throws himself beside her and does a quick once-over. Clarke can practically hear his thoughts as he looks for injuries. Lincoln looks worried, but after a moment of initial shock, Clarke laughs. “That’s one way to be introduced to the ocean.” He seems to find peace with the fact that she's already making jokes. 

Lincoln smiles although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “I guess…let’s get you home so you can get out of those wet clothes.”

He gets back to his seat, this time standing as he drives the boat. Clarke sits in his empty seat, not daring to go back to the edge of the boat. She figures it’s the safest place for her to be. After a few minutes of fighting the small waves, and navigating around the dock area, he parks his boat in the reserved spot he always parks in. He helps her off the boat and starts locking everything up and collecting whatever trash they have laying around. There's a trash can right by his spot that usually stinks, but comes in handy in these situations. 

He’s completely silent, which is nothing new to Clarke. Lincoln is always silent, but she knows this time is different. She scared him because she thought she saw something crazy in the ocean. Clarke easily blames the alcohol in her system but also scolds herself on being such a fool. Fish with hair? Really? It was probably some type of netting left behind by one of WeatherCorps boats.

Clarke walks a little ahead of Lincoln as he ties up the boat and covers it. When she turns the corner, she sees Bellamy Blake arguing with a girl close to her age. The girl’s hair is soaking wet, but she can tell that it’s almost black naturally. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie, and no shoes while Bellamy is just wearing a pair of shorts. If he wasn’t publicly arguing with someone, Clarke might even consider this the highlight of her night. He might be an annoying bastard, but at least he’s eye candy.

She thinks it’s odd that they’re dripping wet because she hadn’t seen anyone else out in the water. Not even another boat since 7 PM. This isn’t exactly a safe place to go for a dip.

“It’s not your fight, Octavia!” Bellamy raises his voice above the harsh whisper he was using before, reaching his hand out to grab the girl’s arm. She jerks away from him, lowly saying something that sounds like a curse and walks away from him. He kicks at the ground around the time that Lincoln comes up behind her.

Lincoln swears under his breath, “Great.” when he sees Bellamy standing right where they need to pass. He tries to hide behind Clarke, but his attempt obviously fails. Bellamy zeros in on them most likely because he didn't get the reaction he wanted when he fought with the other girl. 

“Isn’t she a little young for you, Wood?” Bellamy points towards Clarke. It's weird because it almost sounds like he's defending her honor. Clarke wants to smack him anyway because her relationship with Lincoln is platonic and Bellamy's just a dick.  “I thought the army frowned on these kinds of things.”  _You know damn well it's the Navy,_ Clarke thinks but Lincoln is the one to speak up first. 

“I’m in the Marines, asshole.” Lincoln responds, trying to push around him but Bellamy isn’t budging. He has an odd smirk on his face as if he’s daring Lincoln to punch him in the jaw. Clarke is suddenly aware how dangerous Bellamy Blake's mind happens to be. Dangerous might be an understatement. 

Bellamy whistles under his breath, “I saw that the hours were changed. The store is opening at noon, now?”

“Wow, you can read?” Clarke responds, looking at Lincoln in faux-shock. Lincoln joins in with her laughter. Bellamy looks wholly unimpressed. 

“You’ll lose clients and sink. Your best option is to accept my offer as it stands now. I can’t promise it’ll be the same when you’ve run your friend’s business into the ground.” Clarke doesn’t let Bellamy see her falter. She’s terrified of failing Lincoln, and this prick seems to fully grasp that about her.

“Not interested.” Lincoln tells him firmly, “I have full faith in Clarke. We won’t be selling any time soon.”

“Oh, brother, you really are fucking a college freshman, aren’t you?”

Clarke wants to correct him, tell him that she’s a senior in high school but that’s hardly the important part at the moment. “Oh, fuck off, dick.” Clarke rolls her eyes and pushes against him, so he moves. Bellamy’s shocked by her boldness. He was uncharacteristically cold, even for someone that was soaking wet. Maybe she was just imagining it.

Clarke doesn’t live too far away from the dock, so Lincoln walks her home. The storm that was coming seemed to die down as soon as they were out of the water. The hair was sticky hot, and she was totally uncomfortable. In the back of her mind, she kept thinking how bad her eczema would be after her impromptu dive into the dirty, disgusting ocean.

She was having a major break out on her arms, too.

What an excellent way to start senior year…

“I’ll try to call as often as I can, but writing might be the most effective way to reach me. It just depends on the setup.” Lincoln says after a while. “And don’t listen to that asshat. Blake is a shark, just like his step-father, but he’s harmless.”

“This is your last chance to change your mind.” Clarke warns, “Are you sure you want me to manage the bookstore?”

Lincoln reaches into his wet pocket and pulls out a set of keys. “Clarke, I’m entrusting you with everything I own here. These are the keys to my boat, to my mother’s house, to my jeep, to everything.” He puts them in her hands. The look in his eyes is so intense that she almost cries. “I’ve always been a loner, and after my mother died I didn’t think I would have anyone. It was just going to be me against the world, then I met you. This sounds pathetic, but you’re all I’ve got.”

Clarke really starts crying. Ugly crying because she hates this part.  “Just if anything happens to me, I want you to have it all. I met with a lawyer earlier in the week and it’s all yours.”

“You’re insane.” Clarke sniffles, wiping at her face. She knows she looks absolutely rough right now. Her makeup is probably running down her face and her skin smells like saltwater. 

“Probably”

They walk in comfortable silence until they reach the security gate in front of her parent’s mansion. The front porch light is on, and their cars are pulled up in front of the house. Her father drives a Mercedes, and her mother drives a BMW while Wells and Clarke share a Honda Civic. A small part of her is pretty happy that she'll be able to rock Lincoln's white jeep wrangler now instead of fighting with Wells about who needs the car more. Plot twist, he usually wins because he joined the stupid football team over the summer.

Clarke is fully aware that her parents are going to be a little shocked that she left her phone at home. Really, she just didn't want them looking at her location to find that she's offshore. As far as they knew, Clarke just spent a lot of time at the bookstore. Her father thought it was good that she had a summer job but worried it was interfering with her school schedule. Clarke didn’t tell him that Lincoln was leaving and letting her run it. She didn’t tell them a lot of things, mostly because they never asked and they were never home.

Clarke wraps her arms around Lincoln in an embrace she hoped would be enough, “Be safe.” The tears from earlier are still in her voice when she speaks and she has to use all of her strength not to completely break down. He hugs her back tightly, until she thinks she’ll collapse from lack of oxygen. “Call when you get to Norfolk, if you can…”

“I will. Promise.” Lincoln kisses her on the forehead and chuckles when he feels her wet hair. "Don't go out at night with the boat."

"Okay," She wants to freeze time but it's time to say goodbye. She’s worried that her thighs will start to chaff if she stays in her wet clothes much longer, so she's the one that walks through the gate and towards the front porch. She tells herself that it’s not really goodbye, she’ll see him again but she knows that it won't be anytime soon.  “See you soon, Linc.” Clarke says quietly, turning to walk backwards. He's waiting for her to get to her front door before he walks away, even though she doubts someone will jump out and attack her here. 

He gives her a small wave before she opens her front door and Clarke has to fight the tears once more

She collects herself after a moment or two and starts walking through the foyers towards the living room. Wells, Lorelai, and Thelonious are scattered across the sectional couch, playing on their phones and watching a Marvel movie at a high volume. Lorelai seems to be playing candy crush while Thelonious is furiously typing--most likely a late night email from WeatherCorps. Clarke clears her throat to alert them of her presence, trying to force a smile as if she's not feeling totally miserable again. 

“Clarke, where have you been? You left your phone here. I tried to call.” Lorelai stands up, taking in her daughter's rugged appearance. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I forgot about it.”

“Oh dear, you’re soaking wet, what happened?” Her mother crosses the room and reaches for her soaking wet hands. "You're freezing, sweetie." Thelonious has set down his phone, his face filled with concern. For Clarke, these are the only parents she’s ever known. They truly love her just as much as they love Wells, so there’s hardly ever any awkwardness. She’s always been completely open with them but somehow she thinks telling them that she was drinking underage with a marine on his boat at night will go smoothly. Instead, she sighs as if she’s about to tell a crazy story. Clarke's impressed that she even throws in a convincing smile. 

“I was working at the bookstore and then when I got off, I was walking to clear my head and ended up by the docks—” Just in case someone saw her there. “—I guess I’ve just been so nervous about starting over and all. I thought I saw something in the water and I leaned over to look and I just fell in. I’m fine, though. It wasn’t even deep water. I do feel disgusting though.”

“Wow, you have to be more careful at night. I know that this place has a significantly lower crime rate than L.A. but it’s still dangerous for a pretty girl like you.” Lorelai tells her, smoothing back Clarke's hair with her hand. Her palm rests on Clarke's cheek and Clarke feels like she's going to cry again because of how sweet the gesture is. She needed her mother's touch to make it all better.  “And next time, if you forget your phone, sweetie, just come home a get it. I’m sure that man that runs the bookstore won’t mind.”

“I agree with your mother.” Thelonious tells her with a firm nod, “And keep your location on just in case something happens to you.”

“Okay.” 

The entire time, Wells was watching her through squinted eyes. Earlier in the summer, he confronted her about spending so much time with Lincoln. The football players knew that she was his sister and seemed to think that she was having a fling with him. Apparently, Lincoln had a less than kind reputation with some of the people in town, including the brothers and fathers of the football team. Clarke ignored their rumors, but Wells was constantly telling her that he was too old for her to hang out with and that she needs to be worried about the way people view her. It's easier to just agree than tell him that she doesn't care what anyone thinks anymore. That part of her life is over. She just wants to be Clarke, now. 

Even though her parents are oblivious, Wells knows that Clarke was just with Lincoln. It seems to put him in a mood because he goes back to his phone without saying anything to her about her appearance. 

“Well, I need a shower in a bad way and then I’m going to get everything out for school. Is that okay?”

“Of course, honey.” Thelonious says with a smile. Her father looked tired. There was a lot of work to do in his new job so he was constantly busy. He was a lot more relaxed when Lorelai and he could go out to drinks with their best friends. He always says that the only thing he needs is family, but Clarke knows that isn't exactly true for anyone.. “And if I don’t see either of you in the morning, make this year, your year.”

“Thanks, dad.” Wells says sarcastically although Clarke can tell that he really means it. Thelonious and Lorelai always want what’s best for them.

It’s kind of perfect the way things worked out.

Clarke practically jogs upstairs towards her bedroom. Her room is attached to its own private bathroom, which is great because Wells likes to complain about her extensive makeup collection when they share a bathroom like they did in L.A. As of now, her room is still pretty bland when it comes to decor. The walls are painted lavender and her furniture set is wooden and stained in a color that is almost white. There's a large area rug made out of white shag. Her favorite part of the room is the window that overlooks the water. Even if she hates the ocean, it's not a bad view to wake up to every morning.

Clarke walks into her private bathroom, past the tub towards the shower. She sets it to hot and then starts stripping out of her clothes. When she peels off her pants, she hears the keys hit the ground. "Shit!" She says out loud, picking up her jeans and digging the keys out of the front pocket. She carefully sets them on the sink and takes a deep breath before jumping into the shower.

“I hate the ocean." She reminds herself as she starts to sanitize her body. 

Clarke thinks about how disgusting the ocean is, and then she thinks about saying goodbye to Lincoln and the set of keys that are sitting on her bathroom sink at the moment. Clarke’s never been to his mother’s house but she considers checking out sometime this week if she has the time. She doubts she will ever get on the boat again, but she’ll make sure that it’s not stolen while he’s gone.

After she scrubs her face with a charcoal cleanser, she finds her mind drifting towards Bellamy Blake.

A part of her hopes that he doesn’t show his stupid face any time soon, another part of her hopes that he shows up tomorrow and sees how well she’s handling everything.

She waits in the shower for a few more minutes and then shuts it off completely. After wrapping herself in a fluffy purple towel, she goes to inspect her skin in the foggy mirror to see how badly her skin reacted to the ocean water. To her surprise, her eczema is completely gone.

Maybe it was all the sunscreen she put on throughout the day? Clarke thinks, knowing that she wasn’t openly checking her skin condition while hanging out on the boat. Either way, she’s not mad at it. Clarke does her nightly skin routine and then puts on a pair of boy shorts and a t-shirt she’s had since middle school. She grabs all her wet clothes from the bathroom and puts them in the laundry chute that goes directly into a hamper at the bottom of it.

 _I love this house,_ she thinks to herself with a smile and then heads for bed. Her phone is sitting right above her comforter. There are three missed calls from Lorelai, and a text from Thelonious asking where she is and then a text from Lincoln asking her if she got in trouble with her parents or not.

She texts him back, _No, everything is cool._

He doesn’t text her back right away, so she sets her alarm and plugs her phone into her alarm clock dock.

Her last thought is of how the ocean felt around her, then she drifts to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Her alarm goes off at 6:30 AM.

Clarke has been awake since 3:15 AM, staring at her ceiling trying to trick herself into falling asleep. At first, she was desperate, so much so that she tried blinking exceptionally fast, and counting backward from one hundred. Those methods failed. She watched three first impression videos on makeup that she didn't need by Jeffree Star, hoping that the calm would soothe her to sleep but that didn't work either. Clarke eventually gave up. 

As if the stress of having to start a new high school tomorrow wasn’t enough, she was also dealing with the fact that tomorrow would be her first official solo day at the bookstore. Or today. Today would be her first solo day. _Fuck._ It was true that she wanted to make Lincoln proud, but she also wanted to generate some type of revenue, so he didn’t have to worry about the store at all while he was serving his country. Money was the last thing he needed to be worried about during his confidential missions. 

She throws her duvet to the other side of the bed and places her feet on the ground, stretching her aching toes. Her legs were cramping all night long, which wasn’t something new to her. Her mother always told her that she had low potassium, but that was a blanket statement. When she was younger, it was “growing pains.” No one really knew what was wrong with her. Clarke groans, pushing herself off the bed and walking towards her bathroom. 

Clarke feels the strong need to take a shower after falling overboard last night. She trips out of her clothes, looking over her skin. Her eczema isn’t acting up, which is good. She doesn’t want to be the girl with the weird skin rash on the first day of school. She washes her skin with strawberry scented body wash and runs a vanilla shampoo through her hair. Usually, she washes her hair at night, so she doesn’t have to go through the blow drying process but she didn’t want to appear gross and dirty.

After a few more minutes in the shower, she steps out and wraps another purple fluffy towel around her body. She plugs in her blow dryer and gets to work with her wet-to-dry brush. It takes nearly twenty minutes for her hair to fully dry. Between the shower, and the dry time, she’s cut a significant amount of time out of her schedule. She hurriedly puts on some light BB Cream and uses her Maybelline Lemonade Craze palette. She sticks with a soft brown shade and a shimmery champagne pink color. She swipes some mascara on her lashes and then runs towards her bedroom so she can sift through her closet.

She has a walk-in closet, but she already knows what she wants to wear—a pair of jeans, and a blue chiffon blouse. Clarke slips on a pair of white shoes and then grabs her phone and bookbag. She hesitates before she grabs the keys from her bathroom. She wishes she could hang out with Lincoln this afternoon and talk about life, instead of waiting for him to reach out or wondering where he is in the world.

She shakes it off, walking out of her room towards Wells’ room next door. He can hear his alarm going off over and over again. Wells has a habit of oversleeping, something he hasn’t been house trained on yet. She tries to open his door but it’s locked. Typical. Clarke loudly slams her fist against his door. “Wake up, sleepy! It’s time to go. I’m driving.”

Clarke hears a loud thud and then a muffled curse.

It's enough to make her laugh all the way downstairs. 

Wells sleeps the entire time she drives to school. 

Arkadia High School is small in an uncomfortable way. It’s a simple beige building, two stories with a large parking lot that is almost empty. It’s only a few miles down the shore, so the beach is directly behind it. The school must have faced a few issues in the past because there’s a 15-foot fence cutting off access. Clarke can see the football stadium across the street from the school. It’s huge as if all the school funding has been spoon fed to a third division team that hasn’t won in nearly five years.

Clarke scoffs when she remembers there isn’t even a decent art program at Arkadia High.

There isn’t much room to hide or blend, but she already knew that. The population of Arkadia is less than her former graduating class, so it was obvious that she would stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe being the new girl wouldn’t be such an issue if the entire school didn’t already have an opinion of her thanks to the small town gossip ring. They’ve already decided that Wells is the normal one, and she’s just odd.

The truth is, it doesn’t bother her much. If she’s an outcast, she’s an outcast. She would rather be unpopular than disrespect Lincoln in any way by pretending that he wasn’t the most genuine person she ever met. He was her true friend. These people were just background noise until she could go to the bookstore and _work._

“I’ll give you a quick tour once we get our schedules.” Wells offers as they walk into the double door entrance. There isn’t any security, which strikes her as abnormal, but she lets it go.  People are staring. Clarke knew they would be staring. It’s still off-putting when people stop what they’re doing to look directly at you.  It makes her want to lash out. Wells leads her in the direction of Student Information, which is where Lorelai told them to go a week ago. It’s also something she reminded them of in the group chat this morning.

Clarke knows that are schedule involves an early release at 11:30 AM. It’s something her mother had to sign for. At Chapman, she was in the advanced learner program. This year, she was supposed to be focusing on an internship. Clarke was already accepted at Burke & Burke Gallery in L.A., but she ultimately had to pass it up when her parents announced the move. Originally, Arkadia High told Lorelai that Clarke would have to take electives because they didn’t have a program for advanced learner’s other than general education classes on a college level. Clarke took English 101, and Math 101 her sophomore year so it was a bust.

Her parents could have paid the extra costs of taking college-level classes, but the community college didn’t know how to handle it considering her courses were from California. It was a complete mind fuck so Clarke put her foot down and took the early release. That was after she started working for Lincoln, so she just assumed she would pick up extra hours. It all seemed to work out, though.

Clarke needed a lab science because the class she took in California didn’t meet the requirements in South Carolina for a lab credit. She also needed to take a Government and Economics class, which was strictly South Carolina curriculum. The school wouldn’t let her get out at 10:25 AM, so she ended up taking an art history class. So, she was fully aware what courses she was getting, just not of their exact schedule.

Wells was in a different program than her in Chapman. He decided to take the college and test prep route and it ended up biting him in the ass. He has a full schedule due to all the required South Carolina classes he hasn’t taken. He has to take an additional math course, a social studies course, the government class, an elective course in fine arts, and an English course. He’s pissed, but he did say that it saves gas.

Due to his schedule, Clarke is leaving the car with him and just walking to the bookstore. It’s not that far away, about two miles from the school. She looked on a map and found that the bookstore, her house, and the school form a triangle when they’re all pinpointed on a map. It’s a very walkable town, but it can get exhausting in the summer heat.

It takes them nearly ten minutes to get their schedules because Wells and Clarke had to go back to their car to get their licenses. The secretary in the office didn’t believe that they were brother and sister. Ultimately, she knows this is something she is going to have to explain a lot. Especially when she looks at their schedules and realizes they have homeroom together. The secretary explained that homeroom is ten minutes long, which puts Clarke behind schedule for the day.

She hopes customers aren’t waiting for her by the time she gets to the bookstore. Clarke makes a mental note to check on Lincoln’s jeep because she just might need it with the way things are turning out with the shared car. Wells tells her how to navigate the hallways while they walk to homeroom. He runs into a few of his teammates and makes formal introductions.

There’s some shock but most of them have heard about her already.

Her homeroom class is for students with last names A through L, which she finds bizarre. There are about twelve kids in the classroom. Wells and Clarke aren’t even that early, so she’s pretty confident that this is half of her senior class. Wells introduces both of them to the homeroom teacher. Her name is Miss Indra Kru and she looks absolutely terrifying as well as completely casual. She’s not wearing a skirt, but a pair of jeans and a button up purple shirt.

“Sit anywhere you please.” Miss Kru says, not asking them how they are related or anything. It’s a relief that Clarke doesn’t have to explain to a teacher in front of the whole room. It’s not something she’s embarrassed about, it’s just something she wishes people wouldn’t ask. They always assume Wells is the adopted one, and it infuriates her.

The classroom is pretty standard for what she’s seen in high school dramas on The CW—a chalkboard, a few sets with connected desks, and some posters on the wall. There’s one that reads, “Some days you’re the statue, some days you’re the pigeon.” Clarke bites her cheek so she doesn’t smile at it. Wells sits in the front row, ready to learn something of importance even though this is only homeroom. Wells has always been a closeted nerd. Clarke sits behind him so she can consistently remind him what a huge nerd he is in the first place.

Her desk is slightly uneven, but she doesn’t care. Clarke places her bookbag on her desk, shoving her ID wallet in the front pocket for later. After that, she unfolds her schedule and looks at it. Clarke has Mythology and Art directly after homeroom, then Environmental Science, then finally her Government class. After that, she will go to the bookstore and pray that she can pull this off.

She’s comparing her schedule with the modified bell schedule written behind Miss Kru’s head when the brunette from the night before walks in the room. She is followed by two boys; one wearing goggles, and one wearing a hoodie in the heat of August. They’re talking about something in low voices. Clarke is trying to remember what she was arguing with Bellamy about the night before.

The brunette halts when she passes Clarke, “Do you have an issue, new girl?”

Clarke realizes that she was staring at her. Ironic, considering…

People that were previously talking have stopped. Clarke can feel the hint of a blush threatening to color her cheeks. She won’t let this person she doesn’t even know bully her right off the bat because she’s new. So, instead of being apologetic or awkward, she looks her dead in the eye and says, “Oh, fuck off.” 

If Miss Kru heard Clarke, she doesn’t say anything. The brunette’s mouth falls open for a microsecond, then she’s walking to her seat in the back row as if the exchange never happened.

She doesn't realize until later that's what she told her brother the night before. 

_Way to set the tone for the rest of the year,_ Clarke thinks as Wells glares at her.

“That’s Octavia Blake, the most popular girl in school.”

“Blake?”

X

Other than the awkwardness of being new and the fact that Octavia’s friends are in her first two classes, Clarke’s day goes off without a hitch. She learns that Octavia’s friends from homeroom are best friends. Their names are Jasper Jordan and Monty Green. Apparently, they blew up something in the chemistry lab the year before and automatically failed, which landed them in Environmental Science this year. The administration thought Environmental Science would be a safer subject.

Despite her confrontation with Octavia in homeroom, they’re pretty friendly towards her once they get into Environmental Science. They didn’t say a word to her in art history.

Monty even tells her that their teacher, Mr. Nyko, is an easy teacher and won’t mark you absent until it’s reoccurring. He also introduces her to their other friends that are taking the class—Raven Reyes, and Finn Collins. Finn and Raven are dating, and Raven told Clarke that she was a badass for putting Octavia in her place. Finn is the first person to ask her about the Wells situation.

“I’m adopted.” She tells him and everyone just accepts it.

“Oh, so am I.” Raven says, “Well, I was in foster care until I met Finn. His mother took me in.”

Clarke likes Raven the best. She’s easy going and not so inquisitive that it’s uncomfortable. Clarke even finds herself telling Raven about the bookstore, which the girl says she might stop by one day.

Clarke’s content even when she leaves the school at 11:45.

She practically runs to the bookstore to make it on time, but she’s still five minutes late. Unfortunately, her first customer is waiting outside with a grin on his stupid face. Bellamy Blake is leaning against the bookstore door. He’s wearing a pair of aviators, but she can tell his smile reaches his eyes. He’s also wearing a pair of black slacks and a white button-up shirt that he’s rolled up to his elbows. He’s holding a yellow envelope in his hands, something she’s sure will explain why he’s stalking her.

“Late on the first day. I expected better.” Bellamy is practically purring with satisfaction as Clarke digs in her bookbag for Lincoln’s keys. She finds them while he continues to comment on her tardiness. He doesn’t stop talking until she opens the front door and turns on the lights. Her first order of business is to power on the cash register system and make sure the air conditioner is working. She ignores Bellamy up until the moment she turns on the ambiance music.

“Can I help you, Mr. Blake?”

He’s caught off guard by her professionalism.

“I just wanted to bring the official paperwork over in case you wanted to reconsider your options. This is the final notice.” Clarke can see the mirth in his brown eyes and she almost wants to physically hurt him. Almost. She reaches out her hand, taking the envelope from him. He looks surprised when she opens it, taking the thick contract in her hands. She pretends to flip through it before abruptly throwing it in the trash.

He frowns.

“I told you, we’re not interested.”

“Shame.” He says, turning on his heels towards the mythology section again. Clarke’s prepared for him to make a comment about the new books that she has added. She was informed by Arkadia Middle a week ago that Siren Sisters would be part of an elaborate project. Clarke ordered a few books that arrived Saturday about Norse Mythology and Greek Mythology. The Siren Sisters describe mermaids, but the Greek sirens were actually bird-like women.

It was an interesting comparison in literature, one that only a true nerd would recognize.

Clarke only briefly skimmed everything coming in, so she could be helpful to the parents, and middle schoolers.

“What made you add these?” Bellamy asked, something dark in his voice. Clarke really wants to hit him. He’s been complaining about the collection for weeks and now that she’s added something new, it’s not up to his standards?

“The middle schoolers will be working on a project to go along with their summer reader soon.” Clarke tells him from the cash register, “It’s a book called Siren Sisters.”

He darkly laughs, “Sirens…” as if he knows so many half bird women.

“Why are you pushing us to sell this place if you care so much about the books being sold here?” Clarke asks as he walks towards the cash register. He hasn’t picked out anything to buy but his pace isn’t that of a person that is about to leave any time soon. Infuriating. “You’re just going to buy and bulldoze it.”

“It’s my father’s purchase, I’m just an employee.”

“A persistent one.”

“My father doesn’t tolerate failure.” He sighs, looking at the stacks of overflow inventory behind her. There are a few old books that Lincoln’s mother has been saving for years. Clarke and Lincoln did a lot of dusting once Lincoln was sure that he was going to keep the place. Bellamy seems to be somewhere else for a moment. He smiles softly, “Lincoln’s mother used to host reading days for the children here. It was before technology got huge. My mother used to read out of these Greek mythology storybooks. Leah was always trying to track them down for me, but she never did find them.”

Clarke doesn’t quite know how to respond.

“It’s just business, Clarke. My father has a grand plan for town square. It’ll bring in tourism, and this town will thrive.”

“If it’s such a great plan, then it should work without this one bookstore. I’m sorry, but we aren’t selling and you’re definitely not going to get me to sell behind Lincoln’s back.”

“Look, I know you’re in high school. Your little stunt with my sister was posted in the group chat fifteen times. You can’t handle this place by yourself.”

“You don’t know me.”

X

Clarke closed the bookstore at 6:30 PM. In total, she only sold three books today and they were all summer readers. The books are hardback and go for nearly fifteen dollars apiece. Still, $45 plus tax isn’t a profit to be extremely proud of. At this rate, she won’t even be able to pay the electric bill that’s due at the end of the month. She walks home, thinking of ways that she can bring in more customers without seeming overtly desperate.

Her parents are home by the time she reaches the front security gate. Behind her house is a small deck that leads to the shore. There are times when she thinks of walking the coast, but she decides that getting sand in her shoes is for the birds. Wells isn’t back yet, but Clarke assumes he’s at football practice.

Clarke walks inside following a sweet aroma to the kitchen. She unceremoniously tosses her bookbag in the doorway, walking towards the table set in the corner of the kitchen. Her mother says it’s for breakfast and lunch, but never for dinner. It’s a whole concept that Clarke doesn’t understand because a table is a table.

Lorelai is frying fish, which usually makes Clarke’s stomach roll. She doesn’t really have a problem with fish, it just isn’t something she particularly likes. Her go-to has always been chicken tenders. Ever since her family moved to Arkadia, Lorelai has been trying to get in the headspace as her fellow Arkadians. It’s so she can market towards them better. Her mother has been exchanging recipes at grocery stores and speaking to people on the street so she can work up a demographic.

Fried fish is a big thing in Arkadia, as well as other fried foods. Clarke, who grew up eating baked cauliflower and kale, is having a hard time adjusting to the new menu.  “How was your day?” Lorelai asks as she stirs a pot of mac and cheese. Clarke knows that she has made it specifically for her because she’s the only person that has an obsession with stove-top mac and cheese.

Clarke sighs, “School was uneventful…” she pauses so she can breathe. “…the bookstore was slow.”

_Damn Asthma._

“Well, I guess a boring day is a good day.” Lorelai smiles and Clarke hopes that Wells won’t bring up the Octavia incident at dinner.

Clarke is feeling a little miserable this evening. It might be because of all the walking, but her lungs are burning, and she feels feverish although it’s probably sunburn. This morning, she skipped her usual breathing treatment because she felt fine. An idiotic move. She knew better than to skip her medication. Clarke decides not to tell Lorelai because her mother will completely flip out.

Lorelai might even make her go to the hospital, which is a dangerous half hour away. The doctor would chastise her, then try to give her a breathing treatment there. It wouldn’t work because _those_ never did, and then her mother would have to explain her miracle trial drug to an unqualified emergency room doctor.

The breathing treatment she uses is trial-based and hasn’t even been approved by the FDA. Clarke’s not even sure what it is, just something that a friend of her fathers shipped every month without fail for the last ten years. Apparently, her father’s friend was anti-big pharma and a saint. Before her breathing treatment, Clarke was in and out of the hospital. It was a nightmare and she missed a lot of school and people always viewed her as the sick girl and sometimes the charity case of rich parents.

She doesn’t want her life to be like that again. That’s why she’s kicking herself for being overly confident this morning.

She also thinks that she feels like shit because she’s sad and off routine. Clarke misses Lincoln and is feeling wholly unsettled because she hasn’t heard from him today. He warned her it might happen, but she still had hope that he would send a text or _something._ It’s not his fault—orders are orders. She just needs some insight into sales. There has to be something she can do to generate a larger profit.

“Can you set the dining room table? Wells will be home soon, and dinner is almost ready.” Lorelai interrupts her thoughts. Her mother is truly beautiful in her bright red professional dress and high heels. She’s wearing an apron, so she doesn’t get grease on her expensive clothes. Her mother’s hair is curly and goes down to her mid back. Lorelai’s mother was Dominican, so her curls are loose. Lorelai likes to wear dark red lipstick and mascara, her skin always clear and bright. Clarke wishes her own body reflected the woman who raised her.

Clarke agrees softly, standing from the chair slowly. Her mother is already pulling dishes from the cabinets, setting them on the marble island. Clarke goes to a nearby drawer and grabs the necessary utensils. She has to go back multiple times to get everything, but eventually, the table is set. She returns to the kitchen to find that her father has joined her mother in getting everything finished. 

They’re laughing, moving around each other gracefully because they are in sync. Clarke wonders how she got so lucky sometimes. Clarke was abandoned in a hospital and passed along so many foster homes because of her illnesses. Then, somehow a California couple found her and raised her like her own. There’s a lot she doesn’t know about herself—the names of her parents, for one.

She tries not to think about them, but there are times when she wonders if they gave her up because she’s sick. Were they expecting something different? Did they want more?

Clarke is startled when Wells comes barreling through the house. He’s got his gym bag slung across his broad shoulders, and his shoes are covered in dirt. Lorelai gives him a look of disapproval, pointing at his feet.  “Sorry, practice ran long and I didn’t want to miss dinner.”

Lorelai shakes her head as she puts all the fried fish on a plate. Thelonious volunteers to carry it, while her mother transfers the macaroni into a serving dish.  “Clarke, if you could get the fries and corn from the—”

“I got it, mom.”

Clarke thinks about how cookie cutter the moment is, and then she thinks about all the things that she keeps from her parents. Her depression surrounding the move, her friendship with Lincoln, and all the things that he has left in her care. She also hasn’t told them about the pestering asshat that judges her inventory at least once a week. She’s not doing anything that could get herself killed, but she doesn’t remember when she started being so private. There was a time in her life that she felt like she was on the same page as them.

She doesn’t hate the person that she’s become over the summer. All the hurt, resentment, and rejection taught her how to grow. But her family has been oblivious to the severity of her mental wars. They don’t see her as someone who has been tough, just a kid. Their kid.

They sit down at the table, Clarke across from Wells and her parents at the respective heads of the table. They pass dishes around like a well-rehearsed dance. Lorelai tells Wells to put away his cell phone and then gives Thelonious a glare when she catches him trying to type out an email. “It’s time to be a family.” She says with a smile, even though Clarke knows that she won’t last ten minutes without refreshing her inbox.

Everyone is silent while they eat for approximately five minutes. Wells is the one that starts the conversation. “Coach says that a few scouts have decided to come to our first game.” Scouts aren’t popular at prep schools when it comes to football. It happens, but the likelihood is less because private schools don’t have as many opposers. Wells has great grades, but an athletic scholarship will put him ahead of the game big time. The football team is known for losing, though, so she hopes Wells will have a chance to impress the scouts.

“That’s great son,” Thelonious says, a wide smile on his face. He is pouring a glass of red wine. He offers Lorelai one with just an expression but she shakes her head no.

“I have to work on a community project so WeatherCorps. is more appealing to Arkadia citizens.” She rolls her eyes. Arkadia is decidedly split when it comes to their opinion on WeatherCorps. Most people love them because the company has brought so many jobs to the small area. Still, there are some people that lost everything when WeatherCorps. took over the fishing industry. Those people, along with their close friends and relatives, have been making it difficult for WeatherCorp to expand.

Which is something they need to do because of the rapid rate the company is growing. 

“It’s a lot harder than it sounds but a very important step in any successful business.” Lorelai adds.

Wells goes back to talking about football. Thelonious is really the only person intently listening. Clarke is busy processing what Lorelai just said about successful businesses. Did the bookstore lack community acceptance? If she could make the community love her bookstore, Bellamy’s father would realize how essential it is and stop pursuing the bookstore via Bellamy. Wells is talking about potential colleges when Clarke cuts him off. “Sorry, Wells, but mom…we’ve been struggling with having a steady stream in the bookstore and today, one of the former customers came in. He’s actually the son of the owners of KB Construction. He said that the owner’s mother used to host a reading event with the children and Aurora Blake participated.”

“KB Construction is a beloved company in Arkadia.” Lorelai notes. Clarke can see the wheels turning in her head. The woman is truly a PR Goddess.  

“Maybe we can team up and restart the reading program. It wouldn’t be entirely expensive and it’s a good way to make an impression on mothers and their children—the future generation in Arkadia.”

“You should really think of going into Public Relations.” Lorelai tells her with a sweet smile, “I love that idea. I’ll write a proposal after dinner and I’ll let you know what management says. I don’t see why it wouldn’t be approved, though.”

XXX

Clarke hasn’t been able to sleep again.

Her heart is beating entirely too fast and her chest feels _tight._ Clarke keeps looking at the clock, waiting for it to be a reasonable time to start up her breathing machine. Any time before 6 AM would be weird to her parents, so she’s decided to wait until then. Unfortunately, pure stubbornness isn’t the cure for the early symptoms of a full-blown Asthma attack.

She’s trying to control herself by scrolling through her YouTube feed, watching videos by Spilled Tea because she loves celebrity drama. So far, she’s watched a video about Jeffree Star roasting other cosmetic brands for five minutes straight and a video exposing Buzzfeed’s pension for clickbait titles and how much profit they make per article.

It’s all very entertaining but it doesn’t stop her worsening state.

Clarke is sitting on the corner bench seat by her window, looking out at the ocean while listening to her YouTube videos. There was another storm tonight, just as quick as before. When she lived in Los Angles, the beach didn’t seem this tangible. It was always there, surrounded and overpopulated by tourists, but she never liked it.

Everything about it was different.

Her headphones are in her ears and she keeps alternating looks between the crashing sea and the compilation video of Robert Pattison hating on Twilight. It was probably a bad choice because it hurts to laugh. Personally, she loved Twilight but his honest remarks are giving her life.

Clarke takes a strained breath, feeling her throat close in the process. In attempt to feel better, she coughs. Her chest burns with how much force she uses. She decides to stop being so stubborn and goes over to her desk on the other side of her room to retrieve her nebulizer. Clarke connects the breathing tube, and then fills the cup with the medicine. She turns on the compressor and begins.

Her compressor makes a very audible noise, much to her chagrin. It’s really so her parents can spy on her. She’s hoping they don’t hear it. Lorelai would lose it, and Thelonious would be flustered. They would ask her to take it easy but that’s just what stupid Bellamy Blake would want her to do.

She breathes in her medicine. It makes her mouth dry, but she can already feel it working.

There’s a knock on her door, then the sound of it opening.

“It’s just me.” Wells says sleepily. He is wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxers. “Are you okay?”

Clarke nods, holding the mask to her face.

“Need me to get mom?”

She shakes her head.

“I’ll wait with you.”

XXX

The morning started off rough.

Her skin was irritated when she woke up—absolutely beyond repair. Clarke is devastated because she totally wanted to wear a tank top, but that’s not looking like an option. Her arms are red and patchy, and that doesn’t even begin to describe her legs. The last thing she needs is to be the girl with the weird skin condition. She can’t remember a time when it was ever this bad. She was also feeling horrible still. Clarke might need a day to recover, which usually wasn’t the case. Either way, she didn’t have a day to recover.

She needed to go to class and then get to the bookstore.

Wells drove to school, making up some lame excuse about her horrible driving. She knew that he was worried about her. They had to go to homeroom, which Clarke was dreading after her encounter with Octavia Blake the day before. She didn’t want to deal with her, or her infuriating brother, today.

Miss Kru was sitting at her desk, scrolling through Instagram. The woman wasn’t wearing any makeup, but her eyes were intense. Wells and Clarke took the seats they had yesterday, hardly getting a fraction of her attention. Wells is pretending to watch something on ESPN, but she knows that he’s watching her. He’s apprehensive about her condition. If it were him, she would be concerned, too.

She’s sure that she can handle it, though.

Clarke looks at the door just as Octavia Blake walks in. She doesn’t let her stare linger this time, mainly because she doesn’t think she could form a steady sentence at the moment. Octavia zooms in on her, a little smirk playing on her lips. Clarke looks like hell and it appears that she’s going to use that to get her revenge. The brunette even stops at her desk, opens her mouth, but her words fall flat. Clarke watches her stare at her skin. She waits for Octavia to make a rude remark, but it never comes.

Octavia’s eyebrows furrow and she walks to the back of the classroom.

Clarke starts to think she isn’t a complete bitch.

Or if she is, at least she’s a merciful bitch.

The bell rings five minutes later, and Clarke walks to art history with her head down. Her teacher has decided to play a movie, which is great because she didn’t want to sit under the harsh fluorescent lights while people just stared at her for being the new girl. He plays the Disney classic, Hercules as an introduction to Greek Mythology. He asks the class to write down two things about the film and turn them in at the end of the class so he can take attendance.

Clarke writes about the Easter eggs from other films and the way Disney uses Greek pottery for the introduction. It’s a fantastically easy assignment. She’s quick to turn to her phone to measure her heart beat. It’s still beating too fast and she doesn’t know if she’s having an asthma attack, or an anxiety attack, or possibly both.

After class ends, she tries to take a few deep breaths in the girl’s bathroom. Clarke is light-headed, and everything is sore. Not to mention, her skin feels like it’s on fire. She almost dials her mother’s number, but she closes out when she hears the warning bell.

Environmental Science is torture.

She doesn’t make conversation with Octavia’s friends this time because she simply can’t. Clarke makes the decision to skip Government, opting to hear her mother’s speech later than waste another minute feeling tortured. She can’t take another breathing treatment so soon after the first, but she’s tempted. Clarke tells herself that if she can just get to the bookstore, she can rest until it’s time to open.

As soon as the bell rings, Clarke heads towards the exits. She thanks God that there aren’t any security guards present when she walks out the double doors. Clarke eyes the Honda in the parking lot but decides not to take it. She would just have to walk.

It would be worth it when she’s able to shut her eyes in the back office for an hour.

Her lungs fight her the entire walk to the bookstore, but somehow, she makes it without fainting. Clarke unlocks the door and then locks it behind her. The back office is a small room with a single desk and a nice leather chair. After throwing her bookbag on the floor, Clarke throws herself into the chair and tries to rest and steady her breathing. She continuously takes deep breaths, trying to get back to normal.

Already, she’s making bargains with herself.

She needs to keep the store open until at least 4:30, after that she can go home and figure something out. Clarke sets an alarm on her phone for noon, so she knows when she has to open. The leather chair isn’t comfortable but she’s so exhausted that she falls asleep. She doesn’t ever reach REM, but she is able to calm down just a bit.

There are a few things she has to do before she officially opens the store. Clarke pulls out her cell phone and brings up her email. There’s one from FedEx about a shipment that is supposed to be delivered this week. It’s more books to help with summer reader projects. The college assignment involves a book about coal mines and environmental conservation. She’s ordered a few books about the origins of coal mining and some brochures about coal mining statistics.

She also had to order a few books for the tenth-grade summer reader. Clarke honestly isn’t sure what they’re about because the high school sent over a specific list of books instead of vaguely asking for supporting resources. Those wouldn’t be in until Saturday and she had to sign for them. Most of her book purchases are coming out of savings, which feels wholly irresponsible.

Clarke is really hoping students take their projects seriously.

Clarke makes a physical note about the orders and then goes into the main part of the bookstore. She tidies up the summer reader displays and then makes her way over to the door so she can unlock it. She turns on all of the lights, starts up the point of sales system and waits for her customers.

Almost thirty minutes pass before the door rings. Clarke is busy reading out of her abused copy of _the sun and her flowers._

Clarke immediately frowns when she sees Bellamy. He’s wearing a thin tank top and a pair of swim trunks. “I want to say something smart, but I’m not exactly sure what to start with.” Clarke says, setting down her book and giving him her undivided attention.

“I just wanted to see how things are being run here.” Bellamy’s tone is nonchalant but he’s looking at her differently this afternoon. His usual cocky demeanor has vanished, and he’s looking quite shaken up. His father probably got onto him about not closing the sale. By the looks of it, he’s been spending a lot of time at the beach. “I heard you might be ill.” He tells her, tilting his head to the side.

“From your sister?” Clarke can’t help the edge in her voice. It makes her entirely uncomfortable that his sister has been reporting to him about her.

Bellamy smirks in response.

“Of course.” She expels a shaky breath, feeling a bit lightheaded. Clarke holds onto the counter, trying to put on a brave face. The last thing she needs is to appear weak in front of him. He will use her health to his advantage. It’s all about the sale to him.

“So, what’s wrong with you?” He leans against the desk, very casual for a person that’s consistently trying to destroy her best friend’s business. The nerve. Bellamy’s voice lowers as he moves closer to her. Clarke sees his palm shake as if he’s about to touch her. Clarke backs up just a little bit. “You look like hell.” He adds, dropping the smirk completely.

_Do I look that bad?_

Clarke starts to worry because he actually looks sympathetic. She longs for a mirror, and regrets skipping the makeup routine. Instead of showing him how off-putting his comment was, Clarke snorts, “Words every girl wants to hear.”

He gives her an impatient glare.

“I have asthma,” Clarke confesses, trying to play it off as if it’s not a big deal. She highly doubts that her indifference has had any effect on him. He’s still observing her as if she’s about to reveal a deep dark secret. When Clarke doesn’t continue, he sighs.

“Asthma?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, I mean your sister totally saw my skin outbreak this morning but that’s not anything important. I’ve just had a rough go of it lately.”

“Since you fell into the water?” He questions as if he is gathering information for a science project. If Clarke really thinks about it, this is the first time that she’s had an issue in years. It didn’t start right after she fell into the water, but almost drowning could have triggered a delayed reaction. And her skin could just hate the ocean.

It’s filthy.

Regardless, one thing doesn’t add up.

Clarke crosses her arms over her chest, “How’d you know I fell into the water?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He doesn't quite meet her eyes. Bellamy looks like he has a thousand things to say, but he's stopping himself. Clarke's starting to get freaked out by him and his constant presence.  “When are you closing?” He asks her, walking away from the counter towards the door. 

“Probably around 5." She waits for his comment about her closing up early, but it never comes. 

“Wait for me here, okay?” Bellamy sighs, "I have to talk to my dad about and few things, but I want to continue this conversation."

She doesn't know why, but she agrees. 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this is my second official story on AO3. If you're following Down On My Knees, you're awesome! I promise I will be updating that story soon! As for this piece, I had a dream about mermaids last night and I just couldn't get this out of my head. 
> 
> More chapters to come!
> 
> Leave those comments below and let me know what you think so far!


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